


In The Small Hours

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Auror Harry Potter, Backrubs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bump Kissing, Caring Harry Potter, Cuddly Harry Potter, Domestic, Draco Has To Wee, Harry/Draco Mpreg Fest 2020, Hot Chocolate, Insomniac Draco, M/M, Massage, Masturbation, Mentions of Sex, Mpreg, Nighttime Anxieties and Worries, Oral Sex, Orgasm As A Sleep Aid, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Pregnant Draco Malfoy, So Married, Spooning, Third Trimester Insomnia, flower names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24042481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Draco is suffering from a dreadful case of third trimester insomnia. Every night he lays awake until the small hours, his worries growing gigantic and his eight and a half month pregnant body aching and sore. Harry can't abide seeing his husband suffer, so he does a little bit of research in Draco's baby books. It seems the perfect cure for Draco's insomnia is right at his fingertips...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 432
Collections: HD Mpreg 2020





	In The Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is a self-prompt and takes inspiration from the Barenaked Ladies 1998 song _Who Needs Sleep?_ especially these lyrics: Now I lay me down not to sleep/ I just get tangled in the sheets/ I swim in sweat three inches deep/ I just lay back and claim defeat. 
> 
> Who _hasn't_ been there occasionally? ❤

For the life of him, Draco simply couldn’t sleep. 

He’d tried the Muggle mindfulness techniques that Pansy had told him about. He’d tried reciting Borage’s rules for _Advanced Potion Making_ backwards. Draco had even tried counting unicorns like his Elf-Nanny had told him to when he was a little boy. 

It was all to no avail. Sleep had decided to evade him completely. 

It was entirely the most frustrating of situations, especially since Harry was curled up beside him, fast asleep, snoring quietly and looking rather pleased with himself. Draco had read about third trimester insomnia in his many baby books, but he’d never imagined that he might actually have to endure it. 

The last thirty-six weeks had, after all, been spent in a happy haze of doziness. Draco had enjoyed lazy evenings on the settee, content to lay his head on Harry’s lap while his husband carded loving fingers through his hair. Draco had been happy to tumble into his bed at the end of each day, wearied by the baby growing in his belly that stole half of his magic and all of his attention. 

Now though? Nothing. Not a wink. 

Draco lay in his bed, his husband beside him and not one moment of sleep was forthcoming. For the third time that night, Draco shifted onto his side with a small grunt, hoping that might help. It didn’t. His arms and legs all ached like they’d been hexed. The dull weight of his belly dragged on Draco’s spine like a king-sized bloody cauldron and his hips felt tingly and sore with pins and needles. 

It was a most vexing state of affairs, made worse by the fact that his body seemed utterly unable to regulate its own temperature. He was far too hot. The slightest hint of a warming spell and Draco found himself sweating like he’d played an hour of Quidditch under the midday sun. Harry was kindness incarnate about his recent embarrassing problem but Draco was mortified beyond belief. Malfoys were supposed to glow elegantly. They weren't supposed to drench their sodding sheets. 

Godric, but Draco missed sleeping. 

He tried shuffling onto his back, hoping against hope that it might do the trick. It didn’t. Cramp crept steadily through his pelvis and he felt the weight of his daughter squashing his diaphragm. He lay there for a minute, staring at the small strip of light that ran across the ceiling from a gap in the curtains and Draco huffed out a breath. One hour of blissful rest wasn’t too much to ask for, surely?

Draco missed the feeling of being lulled to sleep by Harry’s small touches and caresses. He missed the feeling of waking to Harry’s infectious smile. 

Potter had adored every minute of Draco’s pregnancy. His husband seemed entirely addicted to stroking and kissing his bump, shamelessly revelling in the evidence of their baby growing ever bigger and stronger with every day that passed. 

More than once Draco had awoken to Harry telling their daughter daft fairy stories and singing her snatches of strange Muggle pop songs that Potter remembered from his childhood. Their little one loved the sound of Harry’s voice nearly as much as Draco did. She would wiggle and dance inside of him, joyful at the sound of her other daddy’s voice. 

With a tiny and very annoyed whine Draco shifted awkwardly onto his other side. 

Now Draco was faced with Harry’s aggravatingly gorgeous and peaceful face. _Merlin_. That bloody wizard could sleep through the rise of a second Dark Lord. 

Draco had no clue at all how Potter managed to stay awake during those long undercover stakeouts. He was only glad that Ron was around to give him a swift poke in the ribs. Draco’s eyes flew wide open at the thought of Harry napping on the job, leaving himself vulnerable. Draco’s mind began whirring with familiar fears. What if something awful happened to Potter whilst he was on duty? What if he got hit by an Unspeakable Curse? 

Their lives weren't just their own any more. Maybe Harry should take a less risky role? After all, they had their little girl to consider now. A baby that they ought to put first. Draco felt his mind spiral into a thousand different scenarios, each of them dire and far worse than the preceding one. Harry in the hospital, covered in bandages. Harry confined to the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungos. Harry, unable to remember that he’d ever known Draco… 

That was _it_. Draco couldn't stay in his bed for a moment longer. Every creeping anxiety and tiny worry always grew perfectly gigantic in the middle of the night. 

For the second day in a row Draco decided that a night on the settee, with the stupidly addictive Muggle telly playing in the background, was preferable to laying in bed and drowning in anxiety. Harry didn’t deserve to be woken with all his twisting, turning and fidgeting. He deserved a good night of sleep. 

Of course, Potter hadn’t approved of Draco leaving their bed. Harry was the very definition of a cuddly sleeper and he’d been grumpy when the two wizards had met at the breakfast table that morning. Harry really enjoyed spooning in close behind Draco, sharing his body heat and caressing his round bump with loving, caring hands. He hadn’t been at all happy to be deprived of the experience. 

“Our bed was far too big and bloody cold this morning,” Harry had complained. He gave his porridge a quick tap with his wand and in seconds it was returned to an ideal warmth. Harry had given Draco a pouty frown as he’d sat down at their table. “I didn’t enjoy waking up without you, love,” Harry had continued, distractedly filling his spoon. “I’m going to miss my good morning snuggle with you and our little one the whole rest of the day.”

Draco had rolled his eyes and answered Harry huffily. “And I miss _sleeping_ ,” Draco had replied, eyeing his very boring-looking ginger tea with distaste. “So it doesn’t look as if either of us are destined to get what we desire today. At least you’ll be able to function today. There are _Inferi_ that feel more animated than I, Potter.” 

In retrospect, Draco knew that his answer had been a touch pointy and sarcastic. After all, he loved their good morning snuggles every bit as much as Harry did and his husband was only being kind. 

Draco had been nearly at the point of exhaustion though. Sleep had eluded him until the early hours of the morning and even then Draco had been plagued with strange, troubling dreams. Everything he was experiencing was entirely normal for a wizard’s third trimester but, like Draco had read in _What to Expect When A Wizard is Expecting_ , that didn’t make the whole experience any less distressing. 

“Bugger this for a game of Quidditch,” Draco muttered. 

It took Draco longer than he would have liked to shuffle over to the side of the bed and slowly climb out. His round belly kept getting in his way, making him slow and ponderous. 

It was bizarre really. He’d been terrified of getting big, of losing the slender figure that he’d always been proud to maintain yet now, as his pregnancy neared its end, Draco knew that he’d miss the kicks and movements of his daughter within him. 

He poked his swollen feet into his slippers and waddled carefully out the room, cradling the side of his bump whilst deftly avoiding the piles of Harry’s clothes that littered their floor. “ _Ooof_. Seem I’m not the only one awake tonight,” Draco said, wincing as his daughter gave him him a disgruntled poke in the ribs. He padded across the hallway. Their baby had decided to sit on Draco’s bladder like it was her calling in life during the last few weeks and he spent most of his days shuffling to and from the bathroom. 

“You can stop that little game before you start,” he admonished, sitting down on the loo. “Little half-Potter fiend. You must have learnt your needling ways from your other daddy.” Draco managed about a thimbleful of wee before he stood with a groan. 

Draco was infuriated with himself for not being able to sleep, but he couldn’t blame their little girl. It was his body incubating her and his brain that wouldn’t switch off, so the problem lay solely at his door. Pansy had apparently been exactly the same when she'd been pregnant. “Of _course_ you’re struggling to switch off at night,” she’d said kindly, when the two of them had met for lunch a few days before. “You’re nearly there now! There’s more excitement… But more apprehension too! This sleeplessness? It really is normal, Draco. You mustn't worry.”

Still, a few extra hours of sleep wouldn’t go amiss and it hadn’t helped when his Magi-midwife Dawn had given Draco a telling off at their most recent appointment, informing Draco that he needed to be resting wherever possible. 

“This pregnancy is supported by magic,” Dawn had said, frowning as she jotted notes down with a scratchy quill. “And you’ll need all your reserves as stocked as possible for the birth. I want you taking plenty of naps,” the Magi-midwife had added. “No exerting yourself unnecessarily. You don’t need to make the birth any tougher than it needs to be.” Magi-midwife Dawn might had been right, but her words had only had the opposite effect on Draco. In his experience nothing stopped a wizard from sleeping faster than laying there, panicking about why it wasn’t happening. 

Draco decided that a hot drink was in order so he made his way down the staircase. A hot chocolate with pumpkin spice and nutmeg ought to do the trick and help him to relax. He would have enjoyed a Latte or an Earl Grey but caffeine, like wine and every other exciting thing was off the menu until their baby decided to make her long-awaited arrival into the world. Draco _Accio’ed_ his dressing gown and pulled it over his shoulders. It didn’t quite meet in the middle any longer and the knot sat on top of his bump but Draco didn’t really care. Taking pride in his sartorial elegance had disappeared at around the same time that he’d stopped being able to button up his trousers. 

Draco was so lost in his thoughts that he failed entirely to notice when Harry slipped into the kitchen behind him. The first that Draco knew of his husband’s presence was when his powerful arms slid around his waist. 

Big, calloused fingers splayed over the sides of Draco’s bump and then he was pressing hot kisses to Draco’s neck. Potter radiated heat like a charm and Draco moaned a little into the unexpected, welcome contact. He was every bit as infatuated with Harry as he’d been on the day they’d shared their first, awkward date and Draco loved how physically affectionate the other wizard was. Everyday of their marriage had been a campaign of kisses, cuddles and joyful words. It was a happiness that Draco had never expected and he tried never to take their lives together for granted. 

“You’re lucky,” Draco whispered after a moment, teasing Harry in his usual manner. “I knew it was you lumbering up behind me, Potter. You make more noise than a Hippogriff. If it’d been anyone else I’d have hexed them, quick than a Niffler down a Vault.”

“Don’t fib,” Harry replied, his voice still rough with sleep. He pressed another kiss on Draco’s jaw. “I’m the best at stealthy approaches in my entire Auror unit. You had no idea I was there, love. I was sneaky like a Slytherin. You’d never even have gotten hold of your wand before I'd have whipped it from your hand.”

Draco couldn’t deny it. “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s nearly two in the morning though,” he replied, concealing a yawn with the back of his hand. “You shouldn’t be up, love. You’ve got a nine am briefing tomorrow at the Wizengamot. Go back to bed. You need your beauty sleep.”

Harry lent over and kissed Draco’s hair, resting his stubbly chin on his shoulder. Merlin, but the wizard smelt so wonderful, like the cedarwood shampoo he used undercut with the scent of their bedsheets. “You need to rest more than I do. Sit down,” Harry said. “Hot chocolate with pumpkin spice and nutmeg? That’s normally your go-to when you can’t sleep.”

Draco nodded, moving reluctantly out of Harry’s arms. He watched as Harry began to gather sugar, spices and cocoa powder from their cupboards. With a tap of his husband’s wand the ingredients flew into the bowl and Potter began to slowly stir in the milk, warming it with a spell. Draco looked on with rapt attention. Harry was always so loving and so considerate. He knew exactly the way that Draco enjoyed his hot chocolate and made it flawlessly each and every time. 

“I meant what I said at breakfast time,” Harry said. “I missed waking up with you this morning. It put a dampener on my whole day, Draco. I don’t like the idea of you and our little one sat on the settee all night. It’s not healthy. I worry about both of you… And I can’t relax when you’re not beside me.”

Draco yawned once more, fatigue washing over him like a spell. “The reason that I’ve started getting out of bed is so you can get a decent night’s sleep. I’m already on paternity leave from the Apothecary but you still have to go to work,” he commented, pulling out a chair and sitting at their kitchen table. Unknotting his dressing gown, Draco lay his hand flat over the shelf of his tummy, feeling for the small shifts inside of his daughter within. “And you don’t need to worry about our baby, Harry. She’s as lively as ever, love… Eager to be out here in the world, I think.” He sighed. “She’s been fidgeting a lot tonight”

Harry poured the hot chocolate into a mug. He placed it on the table in front of Draco and crouched down beside his chair. “It’s not going to be long now,” Harry said, placing his hand over Draco’s own. “A few more weeks and she’ll be here in our arms. I can’t wait to see who she looks like and finally have a turn holding her.”

Draco smiled and took a sip of his drink. It tasted as delicious as always. 

“A few more weeks and she’ll be the main reason that I’ll be up at night,” he answered, moving his and Harry’s hand in little circles all over the soft green silk of his pyjama top. His skin was so tight and stretched. Harry’s natural magic just radiated from his fingertips, calming their daughter and easing his aches. “ _Mmm_. That feels lovely… Keep doing that forever. That’s just what the Healer ordered. She’ll need a name of course. We can’t just keep calling her baby after she’s born.”

“I can feel her wriggling, love,” Harry said, his eyes wide with wonder. Potter was still as blatant in his enchantment now as he had been the very first time he’d felt her kick and Draco felt his heart swell with affection. “You had some pretty ideas for names a few months back. _Ara. Vela… Sagitta?_ You wanted a constellation didn’t you? To fit with your family tradition?”

Draco wrinkled his nose at his husband’s suggestions. Harry wasn’t wrong. Draco had been keen to follow Malfoy custom when they’d first discovered that he’d fallen pregnant but that had been months before, back when the idea of a daughter had seemed distant and fantastical. As their baby had grown Draco had fallen out of love with the idea. He took another mouthful of hot chocolate before he spoke again. 

“I think she deserves her own name,” he said thoughtfully, leaning back. “How about Acacia?” he asked. “They’re pretty flowers… Or what about Calanthe?”

Harry didn’t look convinced by Draco’s two newer ideas and he raised an eyebrow behind his glasses. Flower names were still popular in magical London and both wizards liked the convention. Draco rubbed his cramping legs before making his next proposal, finding it was a struggle to stay comfortable on the hard wood seat. He’d had a bit of a brainwave. “What about _Aster?_ ” Draco wondered aloud. “It means _star_ in Ancient Greek so Mother would certainly approve… And the flower symbolises love and magic. Quite appropriate for our little angel. _Aster Lily Potter-Malfoy_. What about that? Could you imagine our baby with that name?”

“Aster Lily,” Harry repeated. He lent over and nuzzled Draco’s bump with fond adoration. “Aster Lily Potter-Malfoy. I like it Draco,” he said, his words muffled by the silky material. “And so does Aster. She definitely kicked when I said her name.”

Harry’s answer was utterly doting, utterly ridiculous and Draco loved it. “Well, she’s been kicking all night long,” he laughed, running his fingers around the rim of his hot chocolate. “One of the causes of my damned insomnia. Aster Lily. It’s a sweet name.” Another yawn slipped out then and rubbed his eyes. “Merlin. I truly am tired out,” he said, draining the last third of his mug before standing up. “You go back up to bed, Potter,” he said, “and get some proper sleep. You need to be up in a few hours… But I’ll come in before you get up though, promise. We’ll still have our morning cuddle-”

Harry interrupted Draco’s protestations. “You’re _not_ going on the settee, love. The idea isn’t remotely acceptable. I want you to come back to bed with me.” He smoothed his palms down over Draco’s sides. They came to rest on Draco’s hips and Harry gave them a light, suggestive squeeze. Potter’s eyes were dark and they flicked over Draco’s body with an ardent heat. “And you’re not the only one able to read a baby book, Malfoy. I had a peek at them myself earlier… There’s a couple of ways I _think_ I can help you beat your insomnia.”

“Circe,” Draco replied. This was an interesting development. The heat of his husband’s desire was obvious and Draco felt his body begin to awaken and respond like it always did. “You’re such a _tricky_ wizard, Potter. Always so full of surprises.”

Harry took Draco’s hand in his own and led him back to their bedroom. There was a determination in Potter’s step that gave Draco a flutter of excitement deep inside his belly. Harry’s desire hadn’t lessened one Sickle in the last few months and their sex life had remained as intimate and as delightful as ever before. It hadn’t mattered that Potter had needed to work around his bump. The bespectacled wizard had been enthusiastic as ever, aided by Draco’s rampant hormones and raging sex-drive. He’d felt ripe and voluptuous whenever Harry had made love to him, a litany of worship escaping from his husband’s lips. 

By the time that Potter was moving Draco gently backwards toward their bed his legs were trembling and his heart was racing faster than a Snitch. 

“You’re stunning,” Harry murmured, helping Draco as he struggled to shuffle his body over the quilt. He pulled Draco’s top over his head in a single move and pressed a single, rough kiss across his mouth. “Look at you, so big with my baby. You’re the sexiest thing that I’ve ever seen.” 

Moments later Harry had hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and slid those off too. Draco whimpered as Harry stroked his hypersensitive skin and nudged open his legs.

For the next ten minutes Harry devoured Draco. He started off teasingly slowly, using fingers and his thumb and Draco felt his whole body luxuriate at the sensation. 

Pleasure rose in him, steady, steep and wonderful and then Harry began to use his stupidly brilliant mouth to tip Draco so quickly over the edge that his head spun. 

Draco lost himself as he came, drowning under wave after wave of unfolding heat. 

The sound of blood pulsed in his ears, his head swam and every nerve in his body felt scorched and erogenous. His skin was a ripple of goosebumps. Every inhibition about his swollen belly vanished and Draco felt like a wanton, fertile deity as pleasure coiled and rolled through his body. 

By the time that Draco had resurfaced from his climax, his body quivering, clenching and reeling, Harry had crawled up the bed to lay behind him. Draco hadn’t even had the chance to offer to reciprocate the favour. 

“Love you,” Harry said, brushing damp hair from Draco’s forehead. 

“And I love you too,” Draco murmured, giving Harry a lazy smile. The aftershocks of his surprise orgasm were beginning to recede and his whole body felt relaxed, lax and limp. “Think you’ve been reading different baby books to me,” he whispered. “I didn’t realise they were quite so erotic-” 

“Nothing like an orgasm to help you to sleep Draco, love,” Harry replied, _Scourgifying_ his hands with a quick nod of wandless magic. “I read it in that _What to Expect_. Oxytocin gets released by your brain and pffft… Your whole body relaxes.” 

“Clever Harry,” Draco said, closing his eyes as his husband moved him onto his side and began to massage his lower back. “ _Oh_. And those hands are clever too… Merlin, but you’re good at that.” Draco whined, making loud appreciative noises. “Don’t stop,” he demanded. “Please.” Harry’s fingers were as magic as the rest of him and Draco basked under his ministrations. Harry worked Draco’s tight, painful muscles and released knots of tension that Draco hadn’t even known he had. Thick powerful knuckles manipulated and rubbed the base of his spine and Draco undulated in delight, moaning shamelessly. “ _Mmmm_. Did you learn that at Auror training?”

“Think you’re enjoying my hands more now they’re above your waist,” Harry laughed, pressing a line of heated kisses across Draco’s shoulder blade and stroking rough palms over his ribcage. “You’re certainly noisier anyway… And you know full well that I didn’t learn massage at Auror training. The only person who gets to enjoy my hands is you, Draco Malfoy.”

“And that’s exactly as it should be,” Draco replied, sighing as Harry kneaded his lower back. “Think you should give up that Deputy Lead Auror lark… Spend the rest of your days as my personal masseuse.”

“ _Circe_. I would if I only could,” Harry agreed, sweeping Draco’s hair to the side so that he could brush kisses on the nape of his neck. “And now that you’ve had your orgasm and your massage you need to try to sleep, love. No more talking. You and Aster Lily need to rest.”

Draco closed his eyes, finally relaxed enough to begin to drift off. Beside him Harry’s breaths were deep, calm and regular and his hands lay lightly over Draco’s round middle. Even their daughter seemed to finally have fallen asleep. 

The last thing Draco thought as slumber overtook him was just how lucky a person he was. Other wizards could live a lifetime and not know a love like Harry and he shared. His dreams were calm and, when he awoke the following morning after hours of indulgent rest, Draco felt like an entirely new man. Even Aster Lily seemed to have shifted her position slightly. Draco’s back felt less achy than it had in a long while and he stretched out under the quilt, feeling comfortable, confident and sexy inside his skin.

“You’re smiling,” Harry commented with a chuckle. “I’ll have to send you off to bed with a climax and a back rub every night if I get this kind of reaction.”

“Don’t pretend it’s too much of a hardship,” Draco purred, finding Harry’s hand with his own. “Harry Potter. _Saviour_ of Draco’s well-being,” he giggled. “ _Chosen_ provider of nightly orgasms. The boy who lived to make me come.”

“Well, I aim to please,” Harry replied, giving Draco’s fingers a squeeze, “And when your insomnia ceases?… I suppose that I’d better carry on. It’s only fair. After all I wouldn’t want you to relapse.” 

“And neither would I,” Draco readily agreed. “I’ll have you know that growing your little one is hard work. I need every moment of rest I can _get_.”

Draco would have liked to flirt and cuddle for longer but, sadly, it was time for Harry to get up and go to work. Draco inched his way up into a sitting position, his back against the headboard and watched as Harry frantically collected his meeting papers for the Wizengamot. 

Potter _Accio’ed_ his least crumpled woollen Auror uniform, gave Draco a swift kiss and rushed into the shower. The Deputy Lead Auror was already running far later than he ought to have been but that wouldn’t be a surprise to anybody at the DMLE. That wizard was perennially late for most things in his life. 

“I don’t imagine that third trimester insomnia is going to be much of an issue any longer,” Draco murmured to Aster Lily, giving his tummy a protective pat. “You other daddy is going to take good care of us, baby. No more sleepless nights lying awake worrying.”

Harry and he only had a few short weeks left before their baby made her grand entrance into the world. Draco had no doubt at all that both wizards were going to enjoy them thoroughly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx
> 
> Please show the author your appreciation in a comment and by leaving kudos below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of the on-going and anonymous H/D Mpreg fest. The author will be revealed June 21st.


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